Will the Pain Stop?
by elvin-warrior-princess
Summary: (Rating for violence) This is an updated version of a previous story of mine. Please R&R!
1. Broken Home

**_Will the Pain Stop?_**

**__**

**_Summary: _**_It is the summer after Harry's fifth year, and things are only getting worse. With the dreams of the DoM haunting him all the time, Harry desperately seeks a way to stop something that has already begun._

**_Disclaimer: _**_The only thing I own in this story is the plot. Everything else belongs to Joanne Kathleen Rowling, whom I respect very much._

**_Opening Comments: _**_Well, here is my story. I hope you will all like this. It is kind of dark, but these are dark times for Harry. So, please read and review. Criticism is welcome, but I ask you to not be too cruel._

**Chapter One: Broken Home**

****

          Harry was riding back from King's Cross with his "family". He stared out the window thinking back on his pathetic life. He thought back on his childhood. Harry had always known that he was different. For eleven years he couldn't quite figure it out. And then he found out the truth. Or at least part of it. He was a wizard.

            His "family" had always been mean to him. He never even knew why. And when he did find out, he still didn't understand it. It wasn't like he had asked to be different, or famous for that matter. Harry didn't mind being a wizard. That was cool. It was being The-Boy-Who-Lived that really got to him. He didn't want that. If he could have anything, he would want to have his parents and Sirius back, for there not to be a Voldemort, and for him to grow up with people that actually loved him.

When Harry and the Dursley's reached Number 4 Pivet Drive, Harry pulled himself out of his stupor and got out of the car. He dragged his stuff out of the trunk of the car and up to his room. He didn't even bother un-packing; he just ungraciously threw his trunk in the corner of his room by the little cabinet that was his closet.

            "BOY! GET DOWN HERE!" Uncle Vernon's thunderous voice came from the kitchen.

Harry grudgingly got out of bed and went downstairs. When he reached the kitchen, he saw that dinner was ready. At the sight of food, Harry's stomach churned, and he started to leave.

            "Where do you think you are going?" Aunt Petunia shrieked. 

            "If you must know, I am feeling rather nauseous. I'm sure you don't want me ruining the food or anything. So, just leave me alone." Harry left. He knew he would get away with that attitude for at least the one evening.

Harry made his way back to his room and collapsed on his bed. He pulled up the loose floorboard and reached in for the portable CD player and a few CDs that he had stolen last summer from his cousin. He put the headphones on and listened to the angry alternative music until he fell into a restless sleep.

Dream Sequence

Harry was running through the Department of Mysteries (DoM) desperately trying to find Sirius. He finds him, but it is too late…he is falling, falling, falling. And then he is gone. Harry was too late to save him. And then it would just repeat itself over and over and over again.

End Dream Sequence

Harry woke with a start. Cold sweat was running down his whole forehead. He looked at his clock and saw that it was only midnight. He sighed and got out of bed.

Harry quietly made his way to the bathroom. He washed off his face with cold water and looked at himself in the mirror. He hardly even recognized the boy staring back at him. His reflection was gaunt and pale. His once brilliant emerald eyes were dull and haunted looking. Harry quickly looked away.

Back in his room, Harry couldn't get back to sleep, and he really didn't want to. He knew that the dreams would only get worse. So, Harry put on his best fitting pair of pants, button up shirt (left unbuttoned), and tennis shoes. He stealthily made his way downstairs. He slipped out the back door, and made his way around to the front of the house.

Harry looked around the deserted street. He knew that the Order was watching him, but he didn't care. He had to get out. He had to do something. If they followed him, fine. He was sick of caring. All he wanted to do was run. He wanted to run away from all the images in his head. He had to get away for at least a little while from the Dursleys. They were no family to him.

So, with all these thoughts, and many more, on his heart and mind, The-Boy-Who-Lived ran down the street. He ran, not caring where he was going, he was just going. Soon he grew hot, and he stopped briefly to tie his shirt around his waste.

When he was near the play park where last summer he had walked from to meet up with his cousin, and, unexpectedly, Dementors, Harry slowed to a walk. It was then that he heard faint footsteps behind him.

Acting as though he had only slowed to catch his breath (which in part was true), Harry began running again. He didn't stop until he was at the unbroken swing. He sat down and stealthily reached into his pocket for his wand. The footsteps were steadily growing louder. When they were, what Harry estimated, about five feet away, they stopped.

Harry raised his wand from his side and said, "Who's there?"

                        "Potter, what in the name of Merlin do you think you are doing out at this time of night?" A very familiar voice was coming from somewhere.

                        "Hmm…you know, that voice is rather familiar. But, I suppose that is merely my imagination. The person I think it is hates me, so, he wouldn't be here. So, I guess I'll just have to curse you. Expulsion really doesn't matter to me anymore."

                        "Potter, that arrogance is really not becoming of you. Then again, nothing really is."

                        "Listen, Professor, I am in no bloody mood for your antics. Why don't you just watch me in silence like you're supposed to?" Harry snapped angrily.

                        "Since when are you allowed to boss me around, Potter?" asked Professor Snape moodily, stepping out from under the invisibility cloak.

                        "Since I could really care less right now. Why are you here anyway? The Order punishing you or something? Or did you come here to make my life a bigger hell than it already is?"

                        "We all have to do things we don't want to do at some point or another. Now, answer my question: Why are you out here this late?"

                        "What do you care?"

                        "I don't. But it's my job to report it to the others."        

                        "Well, I guess you'll have to go back without that report then, aren't you?"

Suddenly, there was a _pop _nearby. Harry turned suddenly, wand raised. Snape too was on the defense.

            "Harry, what on earth are you doing?" It was the voice of Mr. Weasley.

            "That's what I was just trying to find out, Arthur. But the boy refuses to tell me," Snape spat angrily.

            "Don't worry, Mr. Weasley, I was just going back home," Harry said indifferently.

Harry turned away from the two adults and walked away. He put his wand back in his pocket and put his shirt back on. He was aware that one or both adults were following him, but he didn't care. He just walked at his own pace.

When he got back in the house and in his room, Harry saw that it was almost three. He lied back down on his bed and put his headphones back on. He fell once again into a restless sleep, with the same dream. When he woke once again with cold sweat collecting on his face, it was six, and the sun was half raised in the east.

Harry got out of bed a half an hour after waking, and then he made his way into the bathroom to take a shower. When he was finished, he went back into his room, where, unsurprisingly, an owl awaited him.

            _Dear Harry,_

_It has come to my attention that you left your house last night and went to a park a few streets away. Harry, must I impress how dangerous it is to leave your house after dark? You have many of us here, including myself, very worried. I know that you are upset, but you must learn to control your rashness. _

_Please reply to this letter. You do not have to go into much detail, but you must tell me why you felt the need to leave last night. _

_Albus Dumbledore_

            Harry swore rather violently under his breath as he pulled out a piece of parchment. He wasn't about to tell anyone, least of all Dumbledore, any of the reasons he went out last night. It was no one's business. He wasn't a child. He wrote:

            _Dear Professor and others,_

_                        I regret to inform you that the only explanation I can give you about last night is that I desperately needed some fresh air. Sometimes, people need to get out. They can't just be trapped like criminals. They have to have air._

_            So, sir, this is all I will tell you. You can keep me in the dark about things, and I will do the same. I am not a little kid, and I am old enough to make some decisions on my own._

_            H.P._

Harry sent the owl out through the window and watched it fly away. He then noticed that Hedwig was back from her hunt and had a dead mouse in her cage. She was napping fitfully.

Deciding not to wake his animal friend, Harry simply left a few owl treats by her water dish for her to later find. He then walked downstairs where his uncle was leaving for work, his cousin Dudley had already gone, and Aunt Petunia was watching the neighbors out the back window.

Harry, not wanting any attention from his relatives, walked quietly back upstairs. He sat down on his bed and sighed. This was the life he led, and it royally sucked. Deciding to get out of the house and do something, Harry threw on the same pants, shirt (this time buttoned half way), and shoes from last night, put the CD player and CDs in his pockets and set out downstairs and ran into his aunt.

_Good thing the CD player is hidden, _thought Harry. "What are you looking at?" he asked daringly.

            "Don't take that tone with me! I want you to go into the garden and do some weed control. That's all I want, so don't fuss and just do it."

                        "Fine! Stop treating me like I'm some bloody criminal!"

With this, Harry stormed out of the kitchen and into the back yard. In truth, he was glad his aunt had given him the task. He hoped it would keep his mind off of other things that were bothering him. And she would leave him alone because she assumed that is what he would be doing.

Harry planned on taking as long as he could on the yard. He put on his headphones and set about working on the yard. He was vaguely aware of someone watching him, but he ignored it. He wasn't surprised.

As the day progressed, it got hotter and Harry took his shirt off. He went inside once to get a glass of water. His aunt saw the headphones.

"Where did you get that?" she demanded angrily.

                        "A friend from my school who has muggles for parents gave it to me as a present," Harry lied easily.

            Surprisingly, his aunt didn't reply, and Harry grabbed a water bottle from the fridge and went back outside. Back in the garden, Harry tried to focus on just de-weeding the garden, but his thoughts kept going back to the DoM. To try and drown the memories out, Harry turned up his music all the way. It worked too.

Silently singing along with the music, Harry worked continually on the garden. There were a lot more weeds than he thought, but he didn't care. The more there were, the longer he would be out, and the longer he was out, the longer he could avoid dealing with his memories.

Harry worked even after his uncle came home. When he was finished, Harry went back inside, stiff, hot, and sweaty. He went straight upstairs to take a shower, and then he ate a dinner of a ham and cheese sandwich and some orange juice. He wasn't really hungry, but he felt like he would have passed out if he hadn't eaten anything.

When finished with dinner, Harry saw that Hedwig was gone. Her owl treats were gone, as was the dead mouse. Harry sighed and took off his jeans and shirt. He put on some pajama pants and sat down on his bed with a book he wanted to start: **_Fear Nothing _**_by Dean Koontz. _

He never liked reading school books, but Harry found fiction absolutely brilliant, and he soon lost himself in Koontz's story of Christopher Snow. Harry fell asleep reading, and he was actually met with a dreamless sleep. Well, almost dreamless.

When the sun had almost risen, Harry once again awoke from dreams of the DoM with a cold sweat drenching his face. But there was one new element added to the dream: Voldemort laughing along with a dozen Death Eaters.


	2. Completely Miserable

**_Will the Pain Stop?_**

**__**

**_Disclaimer: _**_Like I said before, only the plot is mine. Everything else is JK Rowling's. _

**_Opening Comments: _**_Thanks to my reviewer, Cassi Angelica. I am so happy to have you as a reviewer, and I am glad you like my stories. Here's chapter two! Chapter three will be up and running once I get more reviews!_

****

****

**Chapter 2: Completely Miserable**

****

          The next few days went by in somewhat of a blur for Harry. He did various chores for his aunt, but no more than two each day. He finished **_Fear Nothing _**and went on to read the second book of the two: **_Seize the Night_**.

Harry's dreams steadily became worse. Although he would start the night off with fitful dreamless sleeping, it would all turn into terrible nightmares of the DoM mixed with scenes from the graveyard in his fourth year, and even the memories of his mother sacrificing herself for him, which he heard when Dementors were around. It was all slowly taking its toll on the boy.

Although Harry ate, it was very little. His stomach just couldn't seem to handle more than just small portions. His complexion was no longer pale, but that was because he had spent the past week out in the sun. His muscles were growing from all the work he had been doing, but not much. Harry's eyes lost more and more spark each day, though the Order did not notice.

Keeping his word to the Order, though barely, Harry wrote a short letter every three days telling them he was fine and that his relatives were being "good".

In truth, his aunt barely talked to him, but that was fine with him. Dudley only pushed him around when he saw him, which was hardly ever. He never saw his uncle, which was totally fine with Harry. Of course, his relatives weren't his issue at the moment, though that would soon change. No, what was really his problem were his dreams and memories. They were slowly tearing him down.

But one day, on a Saturday, when Harry's Uncle Vernon was not working, things started to change. That day, Harry had just come in for a water and snack break when his uncle came up to him.

"I haven't heard from your freaky little friends."

                        "Well, you haven't done anything that would cause them concern, so you wouldn't have, now would you?"

                        "Don't use that tone with me, boy. I was merely commenting on the fact that I haven't caught sight or scent of them in a long time. I usually do. It seems they don't care about you. Can't say that I blame them, though."

                        "Well, if it is true that you can see and smell them, and you haven't lately, it doesn't mean they don't care about me. It means that they have stopped treating me like a bloody little kid."

                        "Are you calling me a liar?"

                        "No, I was merely-." SMACK! Harry never got the chance to finish his sentence.

                        "DON'T YOU DARE TALK BACK TO ME, BOY!"

SLAP! Another slap made its mark on Harry's face. A huge red hand print had formed on his cheek, and it was going to bruise. But for some reason, Harry didn't care. He just stood there. But this only seemed to heighten Vernon's rage, for instead of slapping The-Boy-Who-Lived, he punched him, right in the face.

Blood ran down Harry nose and onto his bare chest, and his left eye began to swell shut. But no tears formed, and he did not back down. He merely stood there. He took another blow, this time in the stomach. Harry keeled forward from the impact. His uncle was strong, and Harry's stomach was small, and the boy was quite skinny.

When he got up, his uncle was gone. Harry calmly and gingerly made his way to the bathroom. He cleaned off his face and chest and went into his bedroom, quietly shutting the door behind him.

It had been around five in the afternoon when Harry had encountered his uncle. When he looked at his clock, he saw that it was almost seven. The blow to his stomach had knocked him out for a little while. And yet, Harry didn't care.

Harry's Thoughts

            _I can't believe I simply let him hit me like that. Of course, maybe it's just because I deserve some punishment. I did, after all, get Sirius killed. It's my fault he is dead. I deserve to be hit._

__End Harry's Thoughts

            After that day, Harry was hit by his uncle about five times a day. Twice, if it was on a day when Vernon had to work late. And yet Harry didn't care. He continued to write to the Order saying that he was fine. He wasn't sure why they believed him. He knew they were watching him, after all.

Harry continued to spend a lot of his time outside. He had written to the Order and told them that he would be going for a two block run once or twice every day and that he didn't want anyone following too closely. They seemed to respect his wishes, for he sensed no one too close to him. He knew they were there, unlike what his uncle thought, but they weren't too close.

Why Harry never told anyone about his more and more frequent and brutal beatings, he wasn't really sure. He was sure that it had to do with the fact that everyone would ask questions, and they would lock him away at Headquarters, and he really didn't want to go back there.

Things only got worse for Harry. Although he was free in the late mornings through the early evenings, Harry was trapped. Not only was he trapped in his own mind, he was also trapped with Uncle Vernon's beatings. And Aunt Petunia was always scarce when they happened. Of course Dudley was never around, and even if he was, he would most likely help his father.

When Aunt Petunia came around, she gave Harry a bag of ice and some water. That was the only support he got from her, but it was a lot more than Harry ever expected. For the help she gave, though, Harry was quite grateful.

One Sunday, though, Aunt Petunia and Dudley went into town to buy Dudley a few new games for his winning a wrestling match. This was at Uncle Vernon's strong suggestion.

Harry had just gotten back from his daily run. (He was really getting into shape. Not that he really cared, though. He just wanted to be out and away from everything.) He walked in the door. After closing it, a punch went to his strengthening, yet very bruised, tan stomach. Harry grunted in pain and surprise, but he didn't go down.

He felt himself being pulled by the hair and dragged up the stairs into his room. He was literally thrown into his room. He slammed his back into the chest of drawers. Another punch came to him, in the face this time.

                        "Your freaky little friends aren't here, are they? They don't ruddy care what happens to you. I am free to do what I want to you!"

            Harry couldn't even answer; not that he was supposed to. More punches and kicks came to him. He wasn't sure when it all stopped because he had passed out by then, but when he came to, he was on his bed, with a blanket on top of him. He looked at the clock and it was six the next morning.

Harry's Thoughts

            _The one good thing about Uncle Vernon's beatings are that when they knock me out, I don't have any dreams._

End Harry's Thoughts

            Harry remembered that he had to write the Order that day, so he sat up. A shooting pain went up his spine, and Harry cursed loudly. When he managed to find some parchment, a quill, and some ink, Harry was almost crying with pain.

            He hastily jotted down a small note:

            _Dear Everyone,_

_                        I am doing fine. My relatives are leaving me alone for the most part. And when we do have contact, it is as pleasant as one can be with someone you would rather not be nice to. I think the fear you placed in them at the beginning of the summer is doing the trick. You might not see me out and running for a little while because I am going to be doing some indoor work for my aunt, and I want to do some studying before school. _

_                        HP_

            Harry laughed bitterly as he reread his note and sent it off with Hedwig. Before flying out the window, she gave him a very gentle nip on the finger and ten took off. Harry sadly watched her go.

Harry desperately wanted to get out of the house he was in. Although he believed that he deserved what he was getting, he felt that it should be given by someone who actually knew Sirius. He didn't want to go to the Order; he just wanted to get out.

When Harry attempted to walk to the bathroom, the pain through his body was so bad that he collapsed back into unconsciousness. Harry Potter, The-Boy-Who-Wouldn't-Bloody-Die, slipped back into a deep blackness that he welcomed whole-heartedly. But it didn't last as long as he wanted it to.

Changing in Points of View

Dumbledore's POV

            Albus Dumbledore let Hedwig in the moment that he saw her. He was very worried about her master, Harry. He couldn't explain his worry. He quickly opened the letter and read it. There was something there…there had to be some hidden meaning. Something was happening on Pivet Drive. The Headmaster of Hogwarts was very disturbed for reasons that he could not understand.

A knock came on the kitchen door followed by Severus Snape, Molly Weasley, and Remus Lupin. The three walked into the kitchen, two with ashen faces, and one with his usual grimness.

            "Did you receive a reply from him, Albus?" Remus asked worriedly.

"Yes, Remus. I did receive a letter from him."

"You don't seem very relieved, Albus," said Severus.

                        "I fear that I am not, Severus. Although he says he is fine, it just doesn't feel right."

                        "We should go and get him. I will go. I couldn't bear the thought of him being mistreated," Molly Weasley said softly, but with conviction. 

                        "Molly," said Remus kindly, yet sternly, "sit down before you have a heart attack. We need to all discuss this. I care a lot about Harry too, but if he is telling the truth, you know how angry he will get if we come when nothing is wrong. What makes you think he wasn't telling the truth, Albus?"

                        "I don't know," the old wizard said tiredly.

                        "What do you propose we do?" asked Severus.

                        "First of all, I would like to know if any of you have noticed a change in Harry's behavior lately. Severus, your report first please."

                        "I honestly don't know what to report. All I have seen him do on my shifts are work in the yard and do his routine jog. He seems to be listening to something. I have come to understand that he is using a muggle artifact called a CD player. It plays music through things called headphones. Anyway, he works in the yard and listens to music. He goes on jogs, like he told us he would, and he goes back into the house. He spends a great deal of time outside. I honestly don't get very close to the boy. I stay my distance."

                        "Thank you, Severus. Remus, what is your report?"      

                        "Same as Severus', I'm afraid. I try to stay a distance away, of course, not for the same reasons. I honestly think that his behavior is his way of dealing with S-with what happened earlier this year."

                        "Albus, you are seldom worried like this when Harry writes to us. We need to do something. I can't stand this anymore," Mrs. Weasley was practically bawling.

At this, Snape grunted a small laugh. Everyone looked at him.

                        "You can't honestly tell me that he is being treated anything but like a king, now can you?"        

                        "Severus," Albus said sternly, "I know that you have a grudge against Harry, but you honestly do not know what that boy deals with that he is not telling us. His relatives treat him anything but like a king."

                        Remus stood up. "You know, you know nothing. You don't have any clue as to what Harry deals with every time he goes back there. Your little school age grudge is simply ridiculous. That is the reason why Harry never could learn Occlumency. That's why Sirius is dead! It's because of _you_!" Remus was breathing hard.

                        "Remus!" gasped Mrs. Weasley/

                        "Everyone just sit down!" Dumbledore was angry. He calmed his voice. "Now, while Remus' little speech was crude, I believe he made a very important point."

                        "What?" asked Snape incredulously.

                        "Calm down, Severus. I am saying that Remus makes a very good point at the fact that you haven't gotten over your school day grudge. It's not good to keep a grudge like that. It has only affected you and everyone else involved, including Harry, for the worst. This has to be put to an end, and now. Right now, we all need to focus on Harry and what is going on with him. This year is going to be harder than ever on him, and he needs everyone's support. Have I made myself clear?"

"Crystal, Albus," said Snape heatedly.

"Okay, so what are we going to do about Harry?" asked Mrs. Weasley.

Dumbledore smiled slightly to himself. He always admired how Molly Weasley could take charge of a situation, especially when it concerns children.

"Why don't I read you Harry's letter, and then we can decide what to do?"

And so Dumbledore read Harry's letter to the small crowd. Remus sat slumped in a chair at the table, Molly sat ramrod straight in her chair next to Remus, and Snape stood sternly in the corner of the room. Everyone was quiet for a few minutes after Dumbledore had finished. The letter was perfectly normal, but there was something missing.

No one knew what it was, but it hung in the air like a leaden weight. The tension of the thoughts of all four people was thick enough to cut a knife through it. What was missing from Harry's letter? It had been pretty much like all his others. But the ominous feeling that something was not right hung about them all in a chokingly tight manner.

End Dumbledore's POV

Back to Harry's POV

            While everyone at Headquarters was deciding what to do, Harry was lying unconscious on his floor. He had slipped into the deep blackness and hoped never to come back. But his wish was not granted. He was awoken by a gentle nipping of his earlobe.

As Harry looked up, he saw his faithful owl, Hedwig by his side. When he tried to get up, pain coursed through his body, but not so bad as to slip him back into that welcome abyss of unconsciousness.

He managed to get up and into the bathroom, though the once five second journey took nearly three minutes. He gently dabbed at his bruised and blood-caked face. His entire body hurt. It was like the pain of the Cruciatus Curse in a slightly lesser fashion. The pain wasn't in every single nerve of his body, like with the curse, but it was a longer lasting pain, and that was what made it all the more intolerable.

When Harry was done, he gingerly slipped back into his bedroom and lied down on his bed. Unwillingly, he began to cry. But he soon stopped because his entire body racked with his sobs, and that brought on more pain.

Suddenly, Harry realized that sooner or later, his uncle would probably kill him. With this thought, he knew that he had to get away. He wouldn't, couldn't, go back to Grimmauld Place. But he knew that he couldn't stay here.

Ignoring the pain, Harry grabbed a piece of parchment and wrote a letter that he had been meaning to write for a quite some time:

            _Professor Snape,_

_                        I have been doing a great deal of thinking, and I want to apologize. First of all, I would like to apologize for looking into your memories. It was wrong of me. Secondly, I would like to apologize for what happened when you were at school with my dad. They should never have done that to you, and none of the Marauders ever apologized, so I am doing for them. I hope that you will come to realize that, uncannily close as our appearances are, I am not my father. I am me. I know you think of me as someone who lets my being a hero go to my head, but this isn't the case. If I could give up my being a hero, even if it meant my nonexistence, then I would, because, quite frankly, I am sick of it. I want people to like me for me and not that I didn't die when someone tried to kill me. Anyway, again, I apologize._

_                        HP_

            Harry gently stroked Hedwig and then sent her out the window. He watched her fly off into the distance, and then went to lie back on the floor where he was at. He hoped that if his uncle came in and saw him in the same place on the floor, that he wouldn't subject him to another beating.

Harry closed his eyes. His breathing steadied, and he slipped into the world of dreams, a place which he hated with a passion. But he knew he had to keep his eyes closed, and his breathing steady, or his uncle would know, and the beatings would get worse.

Meanwhile, a beautiful snowy owl made her way to Number Twelve Grimmauld Place. And all who would read that letter, for there would be many, would all be shocked.

**_Closing Comments: _**_Well, here is another chapter. Please read and review…Criticism is welcome, but please, don't be crude. Thanks again everyone! _


	3. Between Angels and Insects

**__**

**_Will the Pain Stop?_**

**__**

****

**_Disclaimer: _**_To make sure I avoid any legal entanglements, here it is again: I only own the plot of this story. Everything else is JK Rowling's. _

**_Opening Comments: _**_Hey all my faithful readers! Thanks so much to: LunaLovegood61, Brightest Star, Cassi Angelica, and Elessar for your reviews. Here's the next chapter. Enjoy!_

**Chapter Three: Between Angels and Insects**

****

****

The Order's POV

            Dumbledore sat in the kitchen of Headquarters once again, though many more were present. Along with Severus Snape, Remus Lupin, and Molly Weasley, there was Arthur Weasley, Alastor Moody, and Kingsley Shacklebot.

The mood in the room had not changed much, if at all, from the last meeting. The one thing that had changed a little was Severus Snape. He had just gotten a letter from Harry. He was surprised to say the least that the boy would even send him a letter.

When Severus told Dumbledore about the letter, Dumbledore politely asked to see it. He read and reread it a few times. That ominous feeling in the pit of his stomach tightened into a very tight knot. Something was not right. That was why the meeting had been called.

"You all have now read the letter that young Harry sent to Severus." All the heads nodded in unison. "And now you must know that now, more than ever, I feel that something is not right at his house in Little Whinging." All heads nodded again. "I was surprised, to say the least, that Harry had written to Severus at all, let alone as an apology."

"Albus, now that we have discovered your feelings, we need to discuss what we are going to do," interrupted Molly.

"Molly, dear, hush," said Arthur gently but firmly.

"No, I will not hush, Arthur. Something is going on with Harry, and I am not just going to sit here and let it happen. Something has to be done."

"And something will be done, Molly. You need to try and be a little patient," said Dumbledore soothingly.

"Albus, if I might make a suggestion?" requested Remus quietly.

"Of course, Remus. Go right ahead."

"Thank you. Um…what I think we need to do, is send someone that Harry trusts over there to talk to him. Face to face. He is no doubt feeling at least a little in the dark about things, and someone, I think, needs to see him and talk to him, let him know that we are here."

"An excellent suggestion. That is what I, too, feel we should do. Are there any volunteers?"

Molly immediately rose her hand, as did Remus, Alastor, and Arthur. Dumbledore looked around. Only two would be going.

"I would like you, Remus, and you, Alastor, to go and see Harry. Molly, don't interrupt. Remus, go inside and talk to him, and Alastor, I want you to stay with the guard, who I believe will be Tonks."

Both agreed. Molly sat sullenly. You could tell she wanted to say something. But she kept her peace. Alastor and Remus left as soon as the meeting was over. But they were unprepared for what they would find.

End the Order's POV

Harry's POV

            When Harry woke again, he, wincing as he did so, turned his head to look at the clock. It was almost eight the next morning. Reluctantly, he got off the floor and crept as stealthily as possible into the hallway. He slowly walked down the stairs, not only because he didn't want anyone to hear him, but also because the pain he was feeling made it impossible to move any faster.

He peeked out the window and saw that his uncle's car was gone. He sighed with relief. At least he would have a few hours to himself. Walking into the kitchen, he noticed that Aunt Petunia was not at her usual perch by the window.

Back upstairs, Harry decided to take a shower. The hot water stung, yet was soothing on his bruised and slightly scarred back. The stiffness in his joints began to loosen, and the pain, though still there, subsided to a fairly tolerable level. The shower did him a world of good.

Once in his room again, Harry saw Hedwig sitting patiently on his desk with a letter. He stroked his friend, gave her a few owl treats, and read the letter:

            _Dear Harry,_

_                        Knowing it must be hard on you to deal with the grief you are going through, I will be coming to visit you today. We both can deal with certain issues together. I look forward to our meeting._

_                                    Moony_

            Harry frowned. It wasn't that he disliked Remus. It was that he didn't want to see anyone from the Order right then, especially not the way he was. Harry wondered how long it would be before Remus got showed up.

            He sat at his desk for a few minutes more, pondering what he should do. Too soon, though, he heard the Dursley's car pull into the driveway. He almost panicked. He didn't know what to do. He was sick to death of being beaten by someone who didn't even know Sirius. And then it came to him. He walked as quickly as he could to his trunk and pulled out his father's invisibility cloak.

He wrapped it around himself and settled underneath his desk. It was a slightly tight fit, but if he didn't move, then it worked out. He was glad it had come to him as quickly as it did because a few seconds later, his uncle burst into the room, his giant face purple with anger.

Vernon glanced around the room, and, not seeing Harry, stormed out and slammed the door behind him. Harry heard him yelling at his aunt about him being missing. And then, right in the middle of part of his rampage, he stopped.

Harry half-smiled half-cursed. He knew why his uncle had stopped. Remus had shown up. He heard, almost the first time, Remus get very angry. Harry heard his voice as clearly as Uncle Vernon's.

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN HE'S GONE?" Remus screamed.

"HOW SHOULD I KNOW? WE CAME HOME AND SAW THAT HE WAS GONE!" his uncle roared.

"ALASTOR, GET IN HERE!"

Harry almost kicked himself when he heard that. Alastor "Mad-Eye" Moody could see through invisibility cloaks. Not soon after Remus had called for Moody, Harry heard hurried footsteps and a thump on the stairs. And then Harry's door burst open.

It took Moody a few minutes to find Harry, but he did. And when he did, his face looked shocked, and he tapped Remus and pointed in Harry's direction.

Vernon was standing behind Moody, and Harry involuntarily flinched and began shaking. Moody saw this and turned to face the purple-faced man.

"You're right," he stated calmly. "He's gone. Why don't you go downstairs and wait for us, and we'll talk about this together. I'm sure you are as anxious as we are to know where he is."

Obviously picking up on Moody's bluff, Remus nodded his head, agreeing with what his partner had said.

Knowing all too well what would happen if he refused these two fully-grown wizards, no matter how haggard they looked, Vernon stormed down the stairs. And when he was gone, Moody shut the door, while Remus went over to the desk which Harry was hiding under.

"Harry, come out." His voice was kind, but firm.

"And take off that cloak," added Moody. "Let Remus see you."

"Sorry, but I would rather keep it on," said Harry quietly.

"Harry, take it off, now." Remus' voice was still soft, but there was an edge on it that startled Harry, for he had never heard it before from Remus. Reluctantly, Harry took it off.

"Oh my God! What happened to you?" Remus looked completely startled.

Harry didn't answer. He just stood there, in only his pants, with all his cuts and bruises shown for the world to see. His eyes were closed. They were the one thing that he refused to let Remus see.

Moody knew what had happened, though. He looked once more at Harry before leaving the room. Remus and Harry were left alone in Harry's bedroom. Remus still looking at the boy in shock, and Harry too afraid to let the older man look him in the eyes.

            Moody came back soon enough, and he had two more people in tow. Neither, Harry wanted to see. Moody had called in Severus Snape and Albus Dumbledore. Both walked into Harry's room.

They were talking to Moody when they walked in, and hadn't seen Harry yet. Remus had gotten up to join them. Harry took this advantage to hide himself once more under his invisibility and crawled to a corner where his shirt was. He hurriedly put it on and buttoned it up. Then he stayed in that corner. Even when Moody told him to stop hiding.

Harry didn't want anyone else to see him. He wanted to be left alone. He wasn't worried about what had happened to his uncle. He just wanted to be left alone. That was all he cared about.

"Potter, stop acting like such a child. Come out now!" Snape had said this. It infuriated Harry. He was sick of it all.

He stood up, threw off the cloak, and then threw off his shirt. He stood there and glared daggers at his potions teacher.

"There! Are you happy now?" He almost yelled.

No one said anything. They all just stood there. Remus had his eyes closed, and he looked like he might start crying. Moody just stood there like his usual self. Dumbledore was looking at Harry in disbelief. Snape had a look on his face that Harry had never seen before: complete alarm. And Harry just stood there, glaring at Snape, his emerald eyes blank and extremely dark, so dark, in fact, that they were almost a forest green, rather then emerald.

The next thing that happened was that Harry stormed out of the room, just as he was, leaving the stunned adults even more stunned. He briskly walked right out of the house. He just didn't care anymore. He heard footsteps behind him, but he didn't pay attention.

The person following him spun him around and faced him. It was Remus.

"Harry, tell me now, what happened. I am not going to let you move from this spot until you tell me. It's just me here. Spill it."

"No. I'm not going to. Besides, you can't tell me that you honestly don't know anything. You know."

"Did your uncle do this to you?"

"Yes."

Harry wriggled out of the werewolf's grasp and looked at him. His eyes were so dark now that they were almost black. It was uncanny. Harry, of course, couldn't see it, but Remus could. And it scared him.

Harry saw over Remus' shoulder that Snape was walking briskly towards them. But when he was just behind the werewolf, he stopped in his tracks. Remus turned and saw him. They both seemed to be talking to each other with their eyes.

During that time, Harry thought about turning and walking again, but he didn't. Instead, he walked past Remus and Snape, back to Number 4. The two adults stayed where they were. But they started conversing with words. The-Boy-Who-Just-Wouldn't-Bloody-Die didn't hear what they said, and he didn't really care. He was used to people talking about him.

He kept on walking. He walked right in the house and back up into his room, where Moody and Dumbledore were in a deep discussion. But they turned when Harry walked in.

Dumbledore seemed to have aged a great deal. His eyes had no sparkle, and they looked weak and tired. But there was still a power around him that no one could ignore easily.

"Where are my relatives?" Harry asked simply.

"Your uncle is unconscious in the backyard, and you aunt and cousin left," said Dumbledore.

"Harry, what exactly happened?" asked Moody in his usual growl.

"I don't want to talk about it, and you can't make me."

"We don't plan on making you, Harry. But you do need to tell us," replied Dumbledore quietly.

"No offense, sir, but I don't need to tell you anything. No one ever feels the need to tell me anything until it is too late, or not at all, so I am merely returning the courtesy."

"Harry, I know that you are upset about the fact that we have kept things from you, but I really thought that it was for the best. I admit that I was wrong in that matter. I do want you to forgive me." Dumbledore practically whispered this.

"I do forgive you, sir. But I don't really trust you much anymore."

"Trust is something that is earned, and I will work to earn back some of yours."

Just then, Snape and Remus returned. Harry looked at everyone and then closed his eyes. They were tired. He was tired. He felt this crushing weight in his head and in his chest. It felt as though a dam was trying to break. He had to sit down. He found his desk chair and slumped in it.

No one said anything for a little while. Each person was caught in their own thoughts and feelings. All was quiet in the house. The sky outside grew dark, as though to match the mood of the small crowd.

A storm was brewing in those dark clouds. And all the while, the five people in that room sat in various places, thinking. But the silence was soon broken. But it wasn't by the storm outside, for it had not yet come. No. The silence was broken by a weary werewolf, who had begun to cry.

Harry looked at the man who had become his friend. He felt wretchedness for that man. He felt so many different things that the weight in his head and chest grew even heavier. It was crushing him.

End Harry's POV

Remus' POV

Remus stopped crying. He felt a little better. He looked up at the young boy whom he cared for like a son. There was something there amongst the bruises. A haunted look was in the young boy's eyes, which were still a scarily dark color.

Remus saw that the son of James and Lily Potter was in some type of inexplicable new pain. He didn't think it was his new found bruises and cuts that were doing it. It was something else. But he didn't know what it was.

He looked around the room. His mentor, Albus Dumbledore, was staring intently at Harry. It seemed as though he too had noticed the pain in the boy. And then Albus looked at Remus. They shared a brief knowing glance before going back to look at the boy that they both so deeply cared for.

End Remus' POV

Harry's POV

            Harry looked up and saw that almost every eye, meaning that every eye but Snape's, was on him. He got up, went to Remus, and did something no one expected: He hugged him. It was brief, but it was a hug nonetheless. Then he went and put on his shirt, socks, and shoes and grabbed his trunk.

"Are we getting out of here or not? Of course, I still don't want to go to Headquarters, but I do want to get out of here."

"Harry, you have to go to Headquarters for at least a few days. I know that it will be hard for you there, so I will see what I can do about someplace else for you to stay for your duration of the summer," replied Dumbledore, smiling at the boy.

"Let's go, then."

With that last word, they all went down to the fireplace, where they flooed to a secluded place in London, and from there it was a walk to Number 12 Grimmauld Place.

**_Ending Comments: _**_There it is! I won't be able to write another chapter until next weekend, but stay with me everyone. I will try to write more than one next time to keep you all into it._


End file.
